“See, Pet? Money buys everything—everything but your submission. You don’t give it freely. You make me take it from you over and over, don’t you?”
“I-I’m sorry Sir.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just strip and present.”
“Yes, Sir.” I tuck my fingers into the waistband of my tights and panties and attempt to pull them free at once, but his hand lashes out and grabs my arm, drawing me closer. “Tights first, then show me your panties. I wanna see you soaking the fabric.”
I nod and slip out of my tights, discarding them on the floor, then I turn and brace my hands against the headrest of my seat, bending over so he can see what he does to me.
I don’t look at Vivian. In my head, she’s not even here. Ares strokes my panties. They stick to my wet sex. I arch my back and lean into his caress with a moan.
“Take them off, Pet.”
“Yes, Sir.” I hook my fingers in the elastic and wiggle my hips as I slide the panties over my ass and down my legs, then discard them on the floor and step out of them. I bend at the waist, like all bad girls do, spread my thighs, and offer myself up to my Sir’s inspection.
“Oh, you can do better than that, Pet. You’re a dancer, after all. Bend lower. I want your head between your knees.
“I’m a ballerina, not a contortionist,” I murmur.
A firm hand comes down on my ass. The sound rings through the small cabin, and a sting comes a beat later. The stewardess actually squeaks. I suppress my laughter, because I’d be punished for that too.
“I don’t like your tone.” Ares slides his palm up the inside of my thigh, but doesn’t touch my pussy. Waiting is its own form of punishment. “Now, do as I say, and show your cunt to me and this nice stewardess here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I lower my head between my knees, ignoring the protests in my back and hamstrings. I’ve been training again, but it’s not enough. Ares and ballet both conditioned my body for pain and endurance, however I still need to take my time to avoid injury. It seems time is one thing I don’t have. I bend double and jut out my ass, keeping my spine and head bowed low.
“Doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, Vivian?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s lovely.”
“Leave us.” Ares’ command sends my nerves into overdrive.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Upside-down, I watch her scurry away in the direction of the cockpit.
He chuckles, low and devious. “I think we frightened her.”
“You frighten lots of people, Sir.”
“I do, don’t I? Do you know why that is?”
Because you’re scary as fuck? “No, Sir.”
“Because I . . .” He leans forward and runs his nose along the line of my sex. “. . . am not afraid to take what I want.”
Without warning, he plunges his fingers deep inside me. I gasp. It hurts, but it also stokes a fire in my belly that can’t be doused, one that burned long and hot all of these weeks without him. One that I fear will never burn out, or be smothered or snuffed. He made sure of that the very first time he touched me.
“Mmm, I’ve missed you, Pet.”
“I’ve missed you too, Sir.”
He stands. I pitch forward, almost losing my footing, but he just shoves me into the soft leather in front of me with his large hand splayed at the base of my spine. I press my cheek into the cool surface as he unfastens his fly, spits on his cock, and slams it inside.
I cry out. One hand is sealed over my mouth. His other hand grabs the nape of my neck tightly as he thrusts in and out with brutal force.
Breath saws in and out of my lungs, but with his hand covering my mouth and nose, and my face pushed roughly against the chair, I can’t get enough. I shake, pleasure and pain spiking inside me and reaching a heady crescendo no doubt made all the more intense because of the breath play.